Chapter 289: The Man with Infinite Liquidity

Chapter 289: Chapter 289: The Man with Infinite Liquidity

The grand auditorium below Private Box 1 hummed with a low, collective murmur of anticipation. The amber-lit staging lights shifted to a sharp, brilliant white, focusing squarely on the podium where the chief auctioneer stood smoothing down his cuffs.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the auctioneer’s polished, resonant voice echoed seamlessly through the built-in acoustic monitors of Box 1. "We now enter the third and final block of tonight’s catalog."

Down on the main floor, two high-tier investors in tailored tuxedos leaned closer together, their voices hushed behind leather-bound catalogs.

"Have you noticed?" one whispered, casting a subtle glance toward the glowing tinted glass of the VIP tier. "There hasn’t been a single bid from Box 1 the entire night."

"Of course not," his associate replied with a knowing nod. "With Jake Rivers’ level of liquidity, the man could buy out every single item in this building without breaking a sweat. But as tonight’s host, he has to let the rest of high society have their fun."

The first investor smirked, his eyes scanning the remaining catalog pages. "Well, now that we’re on the final anchor lots, the warm-ups are over. If Rivers is going to move, it’ll be right now."

On the massive, high-definition curved display screen at the front of the stage, the first item of the final round appeared—a rare 17th-century diamond-encrusted royal scepter. The room descended into a flurry of frantic paddle raises, opening at fifteen million marks and swiftly climbing until the auctioneer slammed his gavel down at forty-five million marks.

Immediately following, a pristine canvas by a reclusive 19th-century master took center stage, sparking an intense bidding war between two private collectors on the floor before settling at seventy-two million marks.

Inside Box 1, Luke Barnett leaned forward so sharply his chest nearly brushed against the obsidian bidding terminal. His breathing hitched, his posture rigid as a board despite his refined tailoring, and his fingers hovered over the digital interface with white-knuckled tension.

’What if the verification code fails?’ Luke thought, a cold knot tightening in his stomach as he watched the glowing numbers shift on the stage monitor. ’What if someone outbids me before the terminal even registers my tap?’

The stage lights dimmed momentarily before illuminating the display podium once more.

"And now, Lot number forty-two," the auctioneer announced smoothly, his voice commanding absolute focus across the hall.

On the massive display, a stunning, high-resolution holographic projection materialized. It showcased an exquisite, heavy pocket watch crafted from solid platinum and framed in flawless sapphire crystal, its exposed tourbillon movement and hand-engraved imperial crest gleaming under the spotlight. The provenance text beneath the image scrolled past, highlighting its historical significance: The Imperial Sovereign Chronometer, commissioned in 1782 by Royal Decree and presented directly to the House of Barnett as a reward for unwavering loyalty.

"That’s it," Luke whispered, his voice thick with suppressed emotion. "That’s my great-grandfather’s heirloom."

Beside him, Brandon offered a reassuring nod, keeping his silence to avoid breaking Luke’s focus.

Aliya leaned back against the plush leather seating, a quiet, amused smile playing on her lips as she glanced between Luke’s tense profile and her brother. Fancy sat next to her, sipping a glass of chilled sparkling water while watching the display screen with casual interest.

"Bidding for Lot 42 will open at fifty million marks," the auctioneer announced from the stage below.

Before the final syllable had even faded across the auditorium, Luke slammed his finger down onto the bidding terminal in Box 1, locking in the opening figure linked to Golden Investments’ corporate reserve account.

On the main auction floor, the digital indicator board flashed instantly.

"Opening bid registered at fifty million marks from the VIP tier," the auctioneer called out, his eyes sweeping across the auditorium. "Do I have sixty million?"

Across the lower level, a prominent international collector raised his paddle without delay. "Sixty million!"

"Seventy million!" another bidder called out from the private balcony opposite Box 1.

Luke’s jaw tightened. Without a second’s hesitation, he keyed in his counter-offer through the terminal. "Eighty million marks!"

"Eighty million to the VIP proxy!" the auctioneer called out, his tone rising with electric intensity. "Do I hear ninety?"

"Ninety million!" the collector on the floor shot back, determined not to yield.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. He punched in a decisive jump, bypassing the standard increments entirely. "One hundred and ten million marks!"

The entire main auditorium fell into a stunned, absolute silence. Bidding one hundred and ten million marks for a horological masterpiece was an unmistakable declaration of absolute dominance. The competing collector on the floor stared up toward Box 1, hesitated for three tense seconds, and slowly lowered his paddle with a bitter shake of his head.

"One hundred and ten million marks going once..." the auctioneer drawled, raising his wooden gavel high into the air. "Going twice..."

Luke closed his eyes, holding his breath as the weight of his family’s history hung in the balance.

Crack.

The heavy wooden gavel struck the sound block with a sharp, definitive pop.

"Sold! Lot number forty-two to our VIP proxy bidder for one hundred and ten million marks!"

A wave of thunderous applause rippled through the auditorium.

Inside Box 1, the tension evaporated instantly. Luke slumped back into his seat, letting out a massive, shuddering breath of pure, unadulterated relief. A sheen of nervous sweat glistened on his forehead, but his face was lit up with an ecstatic smile.

"I... I got it," Luke breathed, looking around the box as if waking up from a dream. He stood up abruptly and bowed deeply toward Jake and Catharine. "Mr. Rivers, Miss Stone... I cannot thank you both enough. You have no idea what this means to my grandfather, and to my entire family."

Jake sat back comfortably in his armchair, his expression calm and unreadable as he offered a brief, dismissive wave of his hand.

"Consider it settled, Mr. Barnett," Jake replied evenly. "Alice will handle the transfer protocols and have the heirloom securely packaged and delivered to your residence by morning."

"Thank you, Mr. Rivers," Luke said, his voice thick with sincere gratitude. He turned toward Aliya, bowing his head once more. "And Miss Rivers... I owe you everything for this. If there is ever anything—any favor, any assistance you ever require—you only have to ask."

Aliya offered a soft, amused smile. "Just make sure your grandfather enjoys his birthday present, Luke. That’s payment enough."

Brandon grinned, clapping Luke on the shoulder. ’Man, to have that kind of pull without even blinking,’ Brandon thought, glancing sideways at Jake with a mix of awe and deep respect. ’That’s a different stratosphere entirely.’

Even Fancy let out a light laugh, turning her gaze back toward the grand window overlooking the hall. "I’ll say. Though I think the real entertainment happened back at the Meridian Crown."

At the mention of the Meridian Crown, a sudden, heavy memory flashed across Luke’s mind. His expression tightened into a grimace of profound awkwardness as he thought of Alan Mcfree sitting back in that restaurant booth, completely oblivious to the nuclear fallout he had engineered for himself.

"Ah..." Luke winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "Poor Alan. I honestly still can’t wrap my head around what happened tonight. He spent the entire flight from abroad bragging about his former classmates, but that atmosphere I walked into suggested something else..." Luke shook his head in disbelief. "Hopefully he didn’t make you guys enemies."

"Alan built his entire identity on borrowed prestige and shallow posturing," Brandon noted coldly, his dark eyes reflecting the glittering lights of the auction floor below. "People who mistake association for real power usually don’t last long when the market shifts."

Down on the stage, the auctioneer kept the momentum going as the final block reached its climax. Lot 43, an ancient imperial jade seal, went to an Asian telecom magnate for eighty-four million marks. Right after, Lot 44—a rare set of pre-war corporate founder bonds—was snatched up by an offshore fund manager for one hundred and twenty million marks.

Then, the stage lights dimmed to an absolute hush.

"Ladies and gentlemen... we have reached the grand finale of tonight’s auction. The pinnacle of tonight’s catalog—Lot forty-five"

The lighting in the auditorium shifted to a deep, oceanic blue, and the holographic projector flared to life, casting a breathtaking three-dimensional rendering of two lush, untouched emerald landmasses surrounded by sapphire waters.

"Presenting the Twin Islands off the coast of Veyra," the auctioneer announced, his voice filled with reverence. "A private sovereign territory comprising over one thousand prime acres, complete with full maritime developmental rights and total exemption from regional property tariffs."

A collective gasp echoed across the floor.

Across the auditorium, quiet, anxious murmurs rippled through the rows of elite spectators. Everyone in the hall already knew by the architectural layout of the venue that Private Box 1 belonged exclusively to Jake Rivers.

"Is he bidding on this?" a prominent commercial magnate whispered nervously in the third row, leaning over to his associate. "If Rivers enters the bid, we might as well pack our bags right now. There’s no point in burning capital against his liquidity reserves."

"Box 1 is still active," another executive muttered, his face pale as he stared at the glowing indicator. "I don’t think he will sit it out."

"Bidding for Lot forty-seven opens at five hundred million marks," the auctioneer called out.

The initial seconds ticked by in heavy, suffocating silence. Wealthy investors and sovereign syndicate representatives exchanged anxious glances, entirely discouraged from raising their paddles. They weren’t lacking in funds, but everyone in high finance knew that entering a liquidity battle with Jake Rivers was financial suicide—a war of attrition guaranteed to end in total annihilation.

"Six hundred million!" a desperate consortium rep on the floor finally shouted, testing the waters.

"Eight hundred million!" echoed from Private Box 3.

"One billion!"

The numbers climbed with dizzying, breathtaking speed, blowing past two billion marks within minutes as a few stubborn conglomerates fought tooth and nail for the ultimate symbol of geopolitical power. Yet, the moment a major rival syndicate pushed the board to three billion, the room froze again.

Throughout the chaos, Jake remained motionless in his armchair, casually resting his fingers near the primary terminal, his face a tranquil, unreadable mask.

’Let them exhaust themselves,’ Jake thought quietly, his dark eyes reflecting the frantic bidding on the lower level. ’True monopoly isn’t built on shouting the loudest; it’s established by making the cost of defiance mathematically impossible.’

"Three billion marks!" the auctioneer practically shouted, wiping sweat from his brow. "Three billion on the floor from the Overseas Transport Syndicate! Three billion going once..."

Catharine looked at Jake with a quiet, knowing glint in her eyes. "Are you going to let them have it?"

Jake didn’t answer with words. He casually reached out and tapped a single figure into the master console, executing a massive one-billion-mark jump that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt how futile competing against him truly was.

Above the stage, the central LED board flashed red, displaying a number that instantly sucked all the oxygen out of the building: 4,000,000,000 MARKS.

Four billion marks.

The entire auditorium fell into dead, breathless silence. The representative from the Overseas Transport Syndicate slowly sank back into his seat, his face drained of color as he stared up toward Private Box 1 in utter terror.

Just as the auctioneer raised his gavel to close the lot, the representative from Box 3—his teeth grinding furiously in desperate defiance—slammed his terminal, inputting a counter-offer of 4.2 billion marks.

Aliya and the others blinked, looking back toward Jake in surprise.

Catharine let out a light, melodic chuckle, turning to Jake. "Well, it seems your jump didn’t scare them quite as much as you thought it would."

Jake offered a faint, unbothered smirk, his dark eyes calm. "It’s entirely pointless, but I suppose letting them cling to a glimmer of hope makes the reality hurt more."

Without missing a beat, Jake casually tapped the interface once more, effortlessly overriding their desperate bid and hiking the price straight to 5.2 billion marks.

The auctioneer’s hands shook visibly as he raised the wooden gavel once more. "Five billion two hundred million marks... from Private Box 1. Going once... going twice..."

Crack!

"Sold! To the gentleman in Box 1 for five billion two hundred million marks!"

A stunned, reverent hush gave way to a slow, awe-struck applause across the hall.

Inside Box 1, Luke and Brandon sat completely paralyzed, staring at Jake as if looking at a god who walked among mortals. Dropping over five billion marks on a private sovereign island as casually as buying a cup of coffee was a level of wealth and power that transcended human comprehension.

Jake turned his head slightly toward Alice, who stood quietly near the entrance. "Alice. Inform the auction house to list a mystery lot immediately."

Alice blinked in mild surprise, readying her tablet. "A mystery lot, Mr. Rivers?"

"Select two premier corporate entities from our active portfolio holdings," Jake instructed smoothly, his voice carrying absolute authority. "Package them together as a single lot, and auction them off to the floor. Tell the guests it’s my personal apology for snatching up the islands."

Alice’s professional composure held strong, though a faint look of awe touched her eyes. Two premier corporate entities packaged together on the spot, she thought, her fingers flying across her screen. ’Only Mr. Rivers would treat premium market shares as a casual parting gift.’ "Right away, Mr. Rivers. I’ll coordinate the asset transfer protocols with the floor director."

Aliya burst into a sudden, genuine laugh, shaking her head as she leaned back. "An apology lot? Jake, you just crushed their souls with a five-billion-mark bid, and now you’re handing them corporate shares as a consolation prize? That’s almost villainous."

Fancy snorted, trying to suppress her laughter behind her palm. "Honestly, if someone stole my dream island but handed me control of two premier corporations to make up for it, I don’t think I’d even be mad."

Brandon stared in absolute, speech-deprived shock, exchanging a stunned glance with Luke. "Is... is this how top-tier high finance works? You buy an entire sovereign landmass and then toss corporate entities to the room like party favors?"

Luke let out a breathy, bewildered chuckle, shaking his head. "I don’t think this is high finance, Brandon. This is just Jake Rivers’ world, and everyone else is just paying rent."

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